Chapter XXV

_FOR MY COUNTRY_

Gwalior was captured by the Rani of Jhansi. Such was the astounding news carried swiftly from end to end of the Indian Peninsula. The Natives, for the greater part, hailed it either with secret or open joy, many nobles, with their retainers, hastening to join the standard of the redoutable Princess. To the Foreigners, it brought astonishment and perplexity, with fears that the whole rebellion would burst forth anew. They realized that a second Jeanne D'Arc, as valiant in battle, more subtle in council than the Maid of Orleans, moved by the same passionate love for her country, had cast in their teeth a wager of defiance, to stand until either they were driven from her state, or she had perished.

It was no hour for deliberation. Her _coup de main_ had been so well timed, that unless Gwalior was immediately recaptured, the rains would descend, making the country impassable for military operations, and her position thus secure for months to come. The result was unpleasant to conjecture.

With all haste the army of Central India, that had retired to quarters for the approaching season of storm, was reorganized, and the general who had fought against the Rani at Jhansi, at Kunch, and at Kalpi, marched forth to another test of skill. In his long and honorable career he had never met an opposing leader more worthy of his steel.

In the meantime the Rani threw all the force of her character, all the energy of both her body and mind, into preparations for the struggle she quickly perceived was at hand. She fully appreciated the material advantage she had gained, she also understood the weaknesses of her comrades in arms--their tendency to prolong the festivities in celebration of their victory, their unconquerable disposition to retreat the moment the Foreigners closed in battle. But now that she was in supreme command, she determined that at Gwalior it would either be another victory, or death for herself and the majority of her companions.

"Canst thou not rest for a little, dear Rani"? Prasad asked, when after days of untiring energy she continued to bend her efforts to perfect the defenses. "If the Foreigners come, surely we are safe from them here."

"Nay Prasad," she returned. "No rest will I take while danger threatens, and this work remains uncompleted. But in a little there will come a long rest for me, either in thy arms, my love; or in those of God."

Prasad, the Rao Sahib, even Tantia Topi, through his jealousy, marvelled at the spirit of the woman. They curtailed their feasting, and zealously furthered her commands.

The general belief that the Foreigners would not march upon Gwalior before the rains was soon dispelled. From two directions, the East and South, it was learned, that the enemy was rapidly approaching. It was evident they regarded the recapture of Gwalior as of supreme importance.

It was impossible for the Rani to superintend in person the long line of defenses raised before Gwalior, so she delegated the command of those to the south to Tantia Topi, reserving for herself the less strongly fortified position amid the hills and ravines to the south-east of the city, lying between that place and the village of Kotah-ki-sari. There she awaited the army advancing from the east, impatiently for a few days; with still greater impatience on the Sixteenth of June, when the distant roar of cannon announced that Tantia Topi was engaged with the Foreigners at Morar, on her extreme right.

Throughout the day various reports reached her ears. At one time, it was claimed, that the Foreigners were successively repulsed, beaten, and in full retreat; later, that Tantia Topi was as usual practicing masterly tactics in a retrograde movement.

"Ah, now, may God curse his cowardice," she cried passionately, to the messenger. "Return with all speed and order him to stand wherever he may be; for if I find him in the Gwalior fortress, one of us shall die for it."

But Tantia was not of standing fibre before Foreign bayonets. If in little else, he was a genius in limbering up his guns and dragging them away from desperate positions. That night the Rani was informed that he had succeeded in executing a clever strategic act. He had held the Foreigners at bay until he was able to move back upon Gwalior in good order with his guns, abandoning Morar, a useless place, to the enemy. On the morrow he believed he would rout them utterly.

The Rani's anger, her contempt for such conduct of warfare, could scarcely find expression in words or action. She sat in her tent, sick at heart, pondering deeply over the situation.

"What can I do"? she murmured. "I cannot command at all points of this wide field at the same moment. Is there no one but me who hath the courage to dash forward? These Foreigners are only men like ourselves. They are not Gods. God knows, far from it. Have I not seen many of them perish at Jhansi, at Kunch, and at Kalpi"?

"Go," she commanded to an aid-de-camp. "Go to Tantia Topi, and say that if he doth make such another masterly retreat, the Rani of Jhansi will aid herself by attacking him in rear, and driving him on to the enemy's bayonets."

Then she retired to a temple and prayed long and fervently to the God of Battles, that on the morrow her troops might be endowed with invincible courage, that once more He would give her arms a victory.

The day broke with an atmosphere charged with sweltering heat. Soon the rocks and sand burned to the touch as if but a thin crust lay between their feet and a mighty furnace. If its oppressiveness was felt by the Rani's troops, it bore tenfold more heavily upon the Foreigners, fatigued by a long march.

The Rani had taken up a position with cavalry, artillery and infantry among the hills intervening between the enemy and the plain of Gwalior. Her plan was to draw the Foreigners into the ravines by a feint of retreat, holding them there in conflict with intrenched infantry and masked batteries, while she swept down with her cavalry through a flank defile upon their rear. She might thus capture their baggage and ammunition train, throwing their front into hopeless confusion.

At daybreak she beheld the enemy advance to the assault.

All through that day the battle was waged with desperate valor on both sides. Step by step the Foreigners fought their way into the ravines, driving the Native troops before them. At different stages the Rani rode into the thick of the combat to animate her followers, with Prasad bearing her standard. Her counter attack was delivered at an opportune moment, but was frustrated. Evening approached to find both armies exhausted, the Rani's first position captured, but her forces still held well together. A decisive victory could not as yet be claimed by either side; for the Rani had decided to continue the battle throughout the night.

It was in a moment of temporary rest, that the Foreign general ordered his cavalry to charge, with the object of driving the Rani's bodyguard out into the Gwalior plain. The movement took the latter by surprise, with a resulting panic.

The Rani bravely fronted the oncoming squadrons in an endeavor to rally her troopers, but in the tumult her horse took the bit in its teeth and carried her away in the rout. At their heels the Foreign horsemen were slashing and firing their pistols mercilessly. Again and again the Rani called on her troopers to halt, but they only rode for the camp the faster. She reined in her horse and turned, to find she was the last on that part of the field. A hussar was upon her with uplifted sword.

The blow fell but she parried it adroitly, and delivered another in return that slightly wounded her assailant. More hussars coming fast in their leader's wake, the odds were too uneven against her. She set her horse at a ditch a few yards in front, beyond which was safety. The brute urged by her voice leaped forward to the bank, then refused to jump, stumbled and fell with its rider. Before she could extricate herself, the hussar dashed upon her with fury nettled by the pain of his wound. As he swept by, he leveled his pistol and fired. The bullet lodged in her breast, her sword fell from her hand, she sank to the ground in unconsciousness to rise no more.

Over the ditch the hussar passed little thinking that he had dealt a mortal wound to the "bravest and best" of the Native leaders. In his eyes she had appeared only as one of their officers.

Soon the Foreigners' bugles sounded the recall, the Rani's bodyguard rallied and charged back over the field, but it was too late to save their mistress. They discovered her where she had fallen, and gently, sadly, bore her back to her tent.

There it was made apparent that her end was quickly approaching. Prasad, heartbroken, bitterly reproached himself that he had not remained at her side to protect her from harm. He had taken her lifeless form in his arms. About them were grouped men who had never before experienced a tender emotion. Tears coursed down their fierce, bronzed, visages.

Prasad's gentle caresses at last recalled the Rani to consciousness.

"Well Prasad," she asked in a faint voice. "How went the battle? All is not lost I hope, though I am wounded to the death."

"Ah, dear one," he sadly returned. "All is truly lost with thee."

"Do not speak thus," she replied, painfully exerting herself to a return of spirit. "While brave men live no cause is lost."

Then turning her gaze upon the grief stricken countenances of her troopers, she enjoined them not to weep for her.

"For thy tears will bring forth mine," she pleaded, "and the true soldier cries not on facing death."

With assistance, she then removed Sindhia's necklace from her breast. She directed the strings to be broken, and summoning her ever faithful Valaitis gave to each, in turn, a pearl in remembrance of their fair captain.

"Farewell," she said, as each saluted with uncontrolled grief. "Be brave and fight on until the end."

Soon Prasad remained with her alone.

For a time she rested her head upon his breast with her arms about him. Many loving, sorrowful words were exchanged, until she felt the moment of dissolution nigh.

"Prasad," she said. "Place thy hand within my jacket. Thou wilt find my parting gift to thee there."

He obeyed as she directed, and drew forth his dagger.

"Thy dagger, O Prasad," she exclaimed. "I have kept it to protect my honor. I give it back to thee to save thine own in case of need. And now, my dear Lord, one request have I to ask of thee before I say farewell. I beg thou wilt see to it, that no Foreign eye doth gaze upon my body after I am dead."

In a sorrowful whisper he promised to comply.

"Then farewell," she said. "Farewell Prasad, may God love thee as truly as I have done."

"Farewell"? he exclaimed interrogatively. "I will not leave thee yet alone."

"Prasad," she returned. "It is my will to be alone. Nay, I shall not be alone. Again I say, farewell to thee, for thine eyes must not behold my last moment."

He embraced her once more, laid her gently back amid the pillows, then rose obediently to her command. He paused on the threshold of the entrance to gaze for the last time upon her face. In its beautiful features there was discernible neither sign of weakness nor of fear--her spirit remained heroic to the end. He covered his eyes with his hands and passed forth.

Within the tent a profound, mysterious, silence fell, as the darkness of night descended on the land. The Rani clasped her hands upon her breast as her lips murmured a last prayer.

"Great God of Gods. O most holy, omnipotent One. If I have sinned against the laws of my caste, it was for the love of my country. Surely thou wilt forgive a woman who has tried to inspire others to be brave and just. O India," she cried, raising herself with difficulty upon her side and stretching forth her arms, "farewell. Farewell my people, my brave soldiers whom I have loved to lead in battle against the foe. Not forever shall their horsemen ride triumphantly through the land. A day will come when their law shall be no longer obeyed, and our temples and palaces rise anew from their ruins. Farewell! Farewell! O Gods of my fathers, be with me now."

She drew the folds of a shawl over her face to hide her death agony, and again lay down. The blackness of night grew deeper, the silence more intense. Presently, strange, warrior forms seemed to appear from the unknown and filled the Rani's tent. One supremely beautiful figure, in dazzling raiment, came forth to enfold the dying woman in her arms.

In a little, a wail of lamentation rose across the intervening space between the camps of the two armies. The Foreign soldiers asked its meaning of one another.

The answer might have been, that the spirit of the heroic Lachmi Bai had been gathered to the protecting arms of Param-eswara, the merciful, the just, the all supreme God, alike of the Hindu, the Mohammedan, and the Christian.

The Rani of Jhansi was dead.

* * * * *

Great was the pomp and solemn the ceremony with which they carried out her last desire, so that even her body might not fall into the hands of the enemy.

Before the day had come again, a long procession took its way from Sindhia's palace to a point on the bank of the Morar river, where a flower-decked funeral pyre had been erected.

In the van troopers marched with mournful step, followed by officers bearing torches. Then came Brahman priests, naked to the waist in performance of their sacred office. They chanted from the Vedas and scattered rice upon the way. These preceded the bier, upon which, under a canopy of cloth of gold, lay the body of the Rani, attired in royal robes, with the marks of her high caste set upon her forehead. Directly following, walked her aged _guru_, whose solemn duty it would be, in the absence of a relative, to ignite the funeral pyre. Lastly, Prasad with the Rao Sahib, attended by all the nobles of the court.

Beside the whole length of the route traversed by the procession, a multitude of people had gathered, whose lamentations rent the air.

The bier was carried slowly to its destination, and seven times round the funeral pyre. Then the Rani's body was lifted tenderly and placed upon its last bed of death, rice was scattered over all, and the dry brush, saturated with _ghee_, ignited.

The flames leaped high, illuminating many weeping faces, and throwing into relief the figures of Brahmans, nobles, and officers, grouped in a majestic scene. Quickly the tongues of fire reduced to ashes the Rani's mortal form. These, the priests reverentially collected, and, with prayers, cast them upon the waters of the river, to be carried into the bosom of holy Ganges.

"Farewell," cried Prasad, as he stood upon the bank. "Farewell, thou brave, dear Rani. I doubt not I shall be with thee soon."

That day the sun of India hid its face behind gathering clouds, the storm, the monsoon burst.

THE END

_A DRONE and A DREAMER_

By NELSON LLOYD _Author of "The Chronic Loafer"_

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J. F. TAYLOR & COMPANY _5 & 7 EAST SIXTEENTH STREET._, NEW YORK

_PARLOUS TIMES_

DAVID DWIGHT WELLS

A Novel of Modern Diplomacy

BY THE AUTHOR OF "_Her Ladyship's Elephant_."

Parlous Times is a society novel of to-day. The scene is laid in London in diplomatic circles. The romance was suggested by experiences of the author while Second Secretary of the United States Embassy at the Court of St. James. It is a charming love story, with a theme both fresh and attractive. The plot is strong, and the action of the book goes with a rush. Political conspiracy and the secrets of an old tower of a castle in Sussex play an important part in the novel. The story is a bright comedy, full of humor, flashes of keen wit and clever epigram. It will hold the reader's attention from beginning to end. Altogether it is a good story exceedingly well told, and promises to be Mr. Wells' most successful novel.

_Cloth, 8vo, $1.50_

J. F. TAYLOR & COMPANY _5 & 7 EAST SIXTEENTH STREET._, NEW YORK

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The _chupaty_, or cake of unleavened bread, that circulated in a mysterious manner previous to the outbreak of the Indian Rebellion.

[2] Secretary.

[3] Spiritual teacher. In its nearest interpretation, Godparent.

[4] A kind of sedan chair.

[5] A last desperate general self sacrifice.

Transcriber's Notes

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

Hyphen removed: bodyguard (p. 208), prearranged (p. 205), waistband (p. 142).

P. 16: "thing" changed to "think" (I think the Rani is a devilish clever girl).

P. 109: "Ahbar" changed to "Akbar" (Akbar knoweth whom to trust).

P. 295: "clapsed" changed to "clasped" (The Rani clasped her hands).

End of Project Gutenberg's Lachmi Bai Rani of Jhansi, by Michael White